Menu

Peace. Tranquility. Insanity.

Past Imperfect – #98

Despite the expensive couture and the clever way in which the liquor bottles had been lit, the bartender could sense that something was amiss. Then he realized that a young Hannibal Lecter was seated to his left, ensnaring an innocent. If the bartender played his cards right, he just might get paid some big bucks for an exclusive story concerning the starlet who was about to go missing. He eagerly watched the door for the arrival of any reporters, instead of scribbling a warning on the starlet’s cocktail napkin, because he had no soul. And the rent was due…